Willoughby
Hawkins?
Mrs. Perkins. Emma! Assumed name.
Barlow. Good Lord! Mrs. Bradley in jail?
Perkins. This is a nice piece of--ow--my ankle, my ankle!
[Enter Bradley and Yardsley at same time, Bradley with bottle of
Pond's Extract, Yardsley with glass of water.
Bradley. Where the deuce did you fellows go to? I've been wandering
all over the square looking for you.
Perkins. Your wife--
Bradley (dropping bottle). What? What about her--hurt?
Mrs. Perkins. Worse! [Sobs.
Bradley. Killed?
Mrs. Perkins. Worse--l-lol-locked up--in jail--no bail--wants to be
lamped out.
Bradley. Great heavens! Where?--when? What next? Where's my hat?--
what'll the baby say? I must go to her at once.
Yardsley. Hold on, old man. Let me go up. You're too excited. I
know the police captain. You stay here, and I'll run up and fix it
with him. If you go, he'll find out who Mrs. Hawkins is; you'll get
mad, and things will be worse than ever.
Bradley. But--
Barlow. No buts, my dear boy. You just stay where you are.
Yardsley's right. It would be an awful grind on you if this ever
became known.
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